


Negotiations

by Hekate1308



Series: Balance and New Beginnings [16]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, M/M, season 12 au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 05:11:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10734807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekate1308/pseuds/Hekate1308
Summary: It happens on a hunt. Mick finds Dean, alone, but only to watch as the Vila, furious, plunges her hand into his chest.





	Negotiations

It happens on a hunt, because, as Dean put it, “Turns out we still have those. Good old-fashioned hunts!”

The ghost they are dealing with turns out to be a Vila, the spirit of a young woman who died disappointed in love, who now targets men by making them dance with her until they perish.

Unfortunately, she decides to target Dean, who, since he’s in love with someone else, is utterly immune to her charms.

They underestimated her powers however, because she manages to whisk him away from the rest of them and throw fog across the whole forest they’re hunting her in.

Mick finds Dean, alone, but only to watch as the Vila, furious, plunges her hand into his chest.

“Dean!”

 He shoots her with rock salt and runs to his fallen – friend’s? – side.

He coughs up blood as Mick falls down to his knees, terrified.

“Was stupid... need to update... lore...”

“Dean, you shouldn’t – “

“Tell them – tell Cas – “

He coughs again.

“Best years... of my... life...”

“You’re not what – “

“What? No, no – “

Only later will he realize Crowley sounds genuinely distressed.

Mick turns around.

“Do something!”

“I can’t!”

“You’re the King of Hell!”

“There are rules – “

He thinks quickly.

“Make a deal with me.”

“What?”

“My soul, take it.”

Crowley looks at him.

“Give me ten dollars.”

He has no idea where this is going but tears out his wallet. Crowley grabs the money and yanks him into a bruising kiss.

It’s over so quickly he doesn’t understand what’s happening until Dean sits up, completely fine, and the fog has dispelled.

“I added getting rid to the Vila to our deal. You should have thought of that, really.”

“How much time do I have?”

“What do you mean?” Crowley waves the ten dollar bill at him.

“We’re even.”

“Did you seriously just save my life for ten bucks?” Dean asks, getting up, squeezing Mick’s shoulder.

“Thank you but next time, think a little bit harder about throwing your soul away, okay?”

“It’s not throwing it away if it means saving you.”

Realizing what he’s said, he steps away, blushing once more, but before Dean can reply, Cas and Sam burst into the scene and the former throws himself into Dean’s arms.

That evening, Mick watches Dean and Cas preparing dinner. The hunter is already laughing again, carefree, happy.

No one would guess Dean Winchester almost died just a few hours ago.

He’s mesmerizing.

“It’s not going to get you a one-way ticket to Hell, take it from me.”

“What do you mean?” Mick asks, looking away.

Crowley rolls his eyes.

“It’s okay to be attracted. I’m pretty sure the Winchesters are the cause of gay crisis in at least 25% of the witnesses they interview.”

“I’m not...” he trails off.

“I’m not homosexual.”

“Don’t have to be to appreciate a nice view, Captain Peachfuzz.”

Until now he’s been spared one of Crowley’s nicknames. Although maybe “spared” is the wrong diction for it.

It’s more like he’s passed a milestone of some kind.

“Still, it’s not like... he’s very...”

“Obnoxious? Much Plaid wearing? Annoying?”

Mick ignores the suggestions.

“Come on, work with me here.”

“You’re the King of Hell” he points out.

“And yet you’re content enough to sit at a table with me. Your point?”

It’s true. Once they rescued him, he didn’t think twice about Crowley’s presence. He’s a great help on hunts, and he’s really not that bad for a demon.

Say what you want, he did kill Lucifer as well.

“Just a statement”.

“Here”.

Crowley offers him a glass of Craig. He accepts, but sips it slowly, remembering the evening Dean and Sam had to bring him to bed.

“What you did today... It was... nice.”

“I’m just a nice person”.

He almost spits his drink all over the table. Crowley chuckles.

“Now, you almost sound as if you don’t believe me. I’m offended.”

“Nothing offends you.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

It’s easy to forget all the things Crowley must have done over the centuries when you’re just talking to him like this.

Still, he has been nothing but helpful, and without him, Dean wouldn’t be alive.

Cas has made abundantly clear that he’s aware of it, going so far as to hug the King of Hell.

To his credit, he didn’t even flinch.

“Do you have any idea what the Men of Letters are planning?”

Yes, he did something right today, but Mick still knows what this question is supposed to be.

Another test.

“No” he answers honestly.

“Dr. Hess never lets anyone know what to do until the very moment it needs to be done.”

“Hm” Crowley hums. “Very inefficient way to run a business.”

“Efficient when it’s founded on terror and guilt.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“All I know is that everyone needs to be very careful”.

He’s only spent two months with them, but he already cannot imagine going back.

This... all of this... It’s insane. Overwhelming. Downright mad at times.

And he can’t imagine a better life.

“Oh, Peachfuzz, no one here’s ever careful. Doesn’t mean they don’t look after one another.”

They finish their drinks in silence.

Crowley expects the knock on his door that night, so when Dean shuffles in, he only raises an eyebrow.

“Squirrel. Trouble sleeping, again?”

“Thank you, Crowley. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Don’t be absurd. We both know I did.”

It’s something he’s never admitted, not even to himself.

Crowley, the King of Hell, couldn’t stand a world without Dean Winchester in it, and it’s going to become a problem eventually. Inevitably.

But for now, Dean is standing in front of him, unharmed and healthy.

Dean smiles at him, a private, somewhat sad smile.

He understands.

Moose’s visit a quarter of an hour later is a surprise. Cas thanked him right in front of everybody, of course, Sam’s just not quite there yet – for an honest apology, that is; he’s pretty sure they both remember the one he forced himself to after they killed of Lucifer’s hellhound.

“Dean would be dead without you”.

“I am pretty sure every single one of you would be dead without me several times over.”

“Yes, we would. But still. You saved my brother today. Thank you, Crowley.”

Wonders will never cease.

It happens later that night.

Crowley is no longer used to being summoned. The boys were the only ones left who did it in the first place, and the last one who had to was Moose in his desperate attempt to find Squirrel and his boyfriend.

He doesn’t even recognize the sensation for a second.

Barely anyone who would is aware of his position anyway, so how - 

Ah. He should have known. He’s in a devil’s trap, of course, but that’s hardly reason to worry.

Neither is Mummy Winchester glaring at him. Quite frankly, he’s been more scared of her sons at certain points than he ever was of her.

Killers are always scarier when they have a reasonable motive for what they are doing instead of being a ruthless fanatic.

He hasn’t seen the other woman who’s staring at him with the same kind of disgust on her face. It must be Dr. Hess, the woman who made Mick Davies do many things, and several of them downright disgusting, he’s ready to bet.

He knows what a haunted man’s eyes look like.  

He’s reasonable sure the two guys who are standing behind them are those he slammed into the wall when he saved the boys.

“Mr. Crowley” the woman greets him. “I have heard that you are the one to speak to if one’s interested in making a deal.”

 


End file.
